It Wasn't Me!
by Gre3nleaf
Summary: A little elf prince finds himself in a sticky situation... quite literally!
**It Wasn't Me!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing apart from my OCs. Everything belongs to the amazing J.R.R Tolkein :)**

 **Note: This is just a short one-shot I decided to write :) Legolas is about the equivalent of a 5-year-old human.**

 **Lots of fluff!**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Thranduil was walking through the palace gardens, admiring the flowers which had just started to bloom. _She would have loved this,_ the elf king thought, sighing slightly. Not a day went past when he didn't think of his beloved wife. Her beautiful, long golden tresses which flowed down her back. The soft, elegant smile which always graced her red lips. The beautiful sound of her voice as she sang lullabies to their elfling. Their elfling. One of the only things on Middle Earth that could bring a smile to his face.

Speaking of the elfling… where was he? Thinking about it, Thranduil hadn't seen his son since they ate breakfast together that morning. Turning around, he began walking up the path and making the decision to find Legolas and spend some time with him.

As he walked through the doors, nodding to the two guards who stood by it, he smiled as he remembered the strange conversation Legolas had started that morning.

* * *

" _Ada?"_

 _Thranduil lifted his head up from taking a drink and looked at the frowning face of his son._

" _Yes, ion nin?" he asked, smiling._

" _Why is water wet?"_

 _Thranduil's fork halted on its way to his mouth and he looked up, staring into his son's pale blue eyes which were wide with curiosity. He wondered what could have possibly caused his son to ask that question, until he saw the glass jug of water in the middle of the table. The king put down his fork and leaned back into his chair, trying to find a way to answer the elfling's question._

" _Well…" he began, furrowing his brows in thought. "I guess it is because it is not too cold and it is not too hot."_

" _What's that supposed to mean?"_

 _Thranduil sighed. Legolas and his many, many questions._

" _If water is too cold, then it will turn into ice, but if it is too hot, then it will turn into steam."_

" _But… but steam is wet too!" the elfling exclaimed._

 _Thranduil smiled and fought the urge not to laugh. Why were elflings always so curious?_

" _No, tithen pen nin, steam is not wet; it is more like air. It has to touch something cool, like glass for example, for it to turn back into water again."_

" _What about ice?" Legolas said._

" _What about ice?" Thranduil asked, taking a bite from his toast._

" _Ice is wet," the elfling answered, shuffling forward in his chair and eating some more off his plate._

 _How to answer this._

" _No, Las. Ice is just cold. It may feel wet, but ice has to melt for it to become water again."_

 _Legolas tilted his head to the side._

" _Really?" he asked._

" _Really." Thranduil confirmed._

" _You still haven't answered my question Ada."_

 _The elf king sighed and shook his head, smiling. "It would seem so."_

 _Legolas looked up at his father with expectant eyes, waiting to be told the answer to his question._

" _Water is wet, tithen Las nin, because it is not cold enough to be ice and it is not hot enough to be steam, therefore meaning it is in the middle, which just so happens to be-"_

" _Wet!"_

" _Right!" Thranduil laughed._

" _Okay Ada. Hannon le Ada," the little elfling said, seemingly satisfied with this answer as he began eating again._

 _Thranduil gazed at his son for a few minutes before smiling to himself and picking up his fork._

* * *

A loud shriek in the kitchens brought the king back to the present, and he frowned in confusion. Entering the room, he looked around and spotted the cook. She was stood by a counter, staring at an empty tray.

"Falathiel?" he asked, worry evident in his voice as he walked up to stand beside the elf.

Falathiel abruptly turned around at the voice of her king and bowed her head. "Hir nin," she said, smiling slightly, although Thranduil could clearly see that she wasn't focused.

"What is wrong? I heard you scream," he said, placing his large hand over the elf-maid's small one which was resting on the counter.

Falathiel's cheeks turned red with embarrassment; she hadn't thought she'd been _that_ loud.

She turned towards the empty tray and picked up some crumbs.

"I made some honey cakes this morning, hir nin. I was testing out a new recipe for the Summer Festival next week, and I used up the last of the honey and sugar for this batch. I went to get some ingredients to make icing, but when I came back, the cakes were gone!" the cook said, sighing.

Thranduil's frown only deepened as he listened to Falathiel. He had a feeling who this 'honey cake thief' was, and he planned on finding him.

"Do you know who took them?" he asked, hoping to have his thoughts confirmed.

"I don't. When I came back, there was nothing here but these crumbs. However, if it is the same thief as the one who has stolen my cakes before, then-"

"Legolas."

"Yes, hir nin."

Thranduil sighed.

"Goheno nin, Falathiel. I will go and find him now, and I shall make sure that you get some more honey and sugar," he said, smiling politely as he spun around and started walking towards the door.

"Hannon le, hir nin" the cook said, smiling back and curtseying before picking up the tray and muttering under her breath about a certain 'elfling thief.'

* * *

Looking for the little prince proved to be more difficult for Thranduil, but then again, if it _was_ his son who had the cakes then he obviously wouldn't want to be seen with them. Walking up the corridor, the elf king thought of all the places his son hid in when the two were playing hide-and-seek together.

Turning a corner, he stopped as he heard a sound. Straining his ears to hear it better, he decided that it definitely sounded like an elfling who was licking his lips and mumbling to himself about 'how absolutely amazingly deliciously delicious these honey cakes are!'

Screwing his mouth shut to keep from laughing, Thranduil turned around and walked towards a huge stone statue. There was a space behind it, just big enough to fit a 'Legolas-sized' elfing, and it was definitely one of the little prince's favourite places to hide.

The king shook his head and let his blond hair fall about his shoulders before scrunching his face up and putting his hands out in front of him, making them look like claws. As quietly as he could, he walked closer to the statue before he could make out the pile of honey cakes which had been stacked up neatly on a napkin. Walking even closer still, the little figure of his son came into view. The elfling put down his half-eaten cake and started to lick his fingers clean before looking up and noticing his father.

The prince's eyes widened and he jumped up, knocking over the pile of honey cakes as he dodged his father and ran down the corridor, Thranduil not far behind.

"IT WASN'T ME ADA! IT WASN'T ME!" Legolas shrieked, giggling as the elf king caught up with him and roared before swinging him up into his arms and tickling the little belly.

"What wasn't you, little imp?" Thranduil chuckled, kissing his son's sticky forehead.

"I didn't steal the ho- I mean… nothing Ada," he said, smiling innocently up at his father.

Thranduil carried his son over to a nearby chair and sat down, placing Legolas on his lap and cuddling him close as he rested his chin on the top of Legolas's head which happened to be the only place visible that was not covered in honey.

"Las, Falathiel's honey cakes have been stolen. Do you know who the thief is?" he asked.

"It wasn't me."

"I didn't say it was."

"Neither did I."

"What?"

"I said 'neither did I.'"

"I know that."

"It wasn't me."

"Okay, Legolas," Thranduil agreed, chuckling.

The elf king looked down at his son who was busy licking the sticky stuff off his sleeve.

"Then please tell me where all this honey came from," he said, raising an eyebrow in mock-sternness. Stealing the cakes had only been something the little prince had done twice, this being his second, and the king knew it was a harmless thing that every elfling did. However, Falathiel had been quite upset, and Thranduil wanted to make sure his son knew that.

Legolas looked down and grimaced. He should have known that his father would most definitely ask why he was covered from head to toe in honey.

"They looked really nice Ada," he admitted.

Thranduil grinned. "Yes, I can imagine they did."

"Was Falathiel angry?" the little elfling asked. He liked the cook. She would sometimes let him help in the kitchens and stir the mixtures that she made in the bowl, but he had also been on the receiving end of her temper, and he had hoped it wouldn't happen again.

"No, I don't think so. She was just a bit upset," Thranduil told his son, wrapping his arms more securely around him as the little elf shuffled about on his lap.

"Upset?"

"Yes, tithen pen. Falathiel had spent quite some time making those cakes and was upset to find they were all gone."

"Oh."

Thranduil looked down at his elfling who had suddenly found the floor very interesting.

"Legolas?" he asked, placing a finger under his son's chin and lifting it up so that he was looking at him.

The prince allowed his chin to be raised, secretly getting a bit nervous; he didn't want his father to be angry with him! Nevertheless, as he met the older elf's eyes, he noticed the kindness in them and the gentle smile that was on his lips. He relaxed and blinked his eyes, waiting for Thranduil to speak.

The king smiled as he looked into the bright eyes of his son and opened his mouth to speak. "Please try not to take anymore of Falathiel's cakes, okay? It takes away a lot of her time to make them and it doesn't make her very happy when someone steals them from her. Next time, ask if you can try one, don't just take them, alright?" he said.

Legolas nodded, his face now looking very downcast. He didn't like being told off, and the guilt he now felt from taking the honey cakes was only making it worse!

Thranduil leant forward and placed his forehead against his son's smaller one which was a gesture the two often did as a sign that they loved each other very much. They stayed like that for a moment, enjoying each other's company, until Legolas broke the silence.

"I am going to go and say sorry Ada," he said, turning around in his father's lap.

Thranduil smiled and nodded his head before standing up and resting his son on his hip, quite aware now that he was almost as covered in honey as his elfling was.

"I think that is a good idea, ion nin. However, first we need to get you cleaned up!"

Legolas groaned at the mention of a bath and buried his head in his father's robes as the king carried him towards his room.

As they neared the door, something came up in the little prince's mind and he drew his head back and stared up at his father.

"Ada?"

"Yes, tithen lasse?"

"Why is honey sticky?"

* * *

 **Elvish used:**

 **Ada – Daddy**

 **Ion nin – My son**

 **Tithen pen nin – My little one**

 **Tithen Las nin – My little Las (Las is Thranduil's nickname for Legolas)**

 **Hannon le – Thank you**

 **Hir nin – My lord**

 **Goheno nin – Forgive me**

 **Tithen pen – Little one**

 **Tithen lasse – Little leaf**

* * *

 **I really hope you enjoyed this little one-shot! I loved writing it! Please review :D ~ Gre3nleaf**


End file.
